Be Brave (28 page)

until he was sitting. “I like little girls.”

Denbigh said in his coarse French, “He"s a queer. He likes boys.”

Dudek responded in French, which seemed to be the language they had in

common. “Perhaps he likes both.”

Kael spoke in Polish to exclude Denbigh. “He"s an idiot. I hope you don"t trust

him with anything important.”

“He says you work for MI6,” Dudek said.

The way out of this might be to let Dudek think he was easily bought. “I did,”

Kael said. “But no longer.”

“What did you really come here for?” Before Kael could respond, Dudek nodded

at Denbigh and another man, who between them dragged Kael to his feet. With his

feet and knees secured with electrical tape, he had no balance even when pulled

upright. The two men held him, and Dudek nodded at the third, who balled up his

fist and plowed it into Kael"s stomach. He knew the blow was coming and tensed his

stomach muscles just enough to protect his internal organs but not so much that the

bruise would be deep.

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129

“What did you come here for? Was it you who took Clement?”

“Yes,” Kael said. “The British government wanted him back, and when I came

for him, I saw the child.”

“But little girls are not your pleasure.” Dudek smiled.

“No, but the money I could get for her is.” He had to convince them he viewed

Ekaterina as a commodity and not a child who needed to be rescued.

“You came here to steal my property to sell?”

“Yes,” Kael said. They must not think he had anything but a business interest

in the girl, because a man like Dudek would respect that.

“So you are still working for MI6.”

“No. I"m a bounty hunter now. But I want to do this.” He nodded at the wall

behind which the slaves were sleeping. Denbigh was looking increasingly nervous at

not understanding the conversation. The man"s SIS file had indicated he spoke only

English and minimal French.

“Don"t believe anything he says,” he said to Dudek.

If Kael could get Dudek to see him as valuable and willing to work for him, it

might be his chance at freedom. “Give me my clothes back. I"m freezing.”

Dudek laughed. He stepped forward and grabbed Kael"s ball sac, squeezing

hard. Pain shot through his groin. “If you lie to me, I"ll cut your nuts off.”

“I speak English, Polish, French, Russian, Spanish, Dutch, bits of Latvian, and

I"ve been picking up Czech. I could be very useful to you.” Being useful was his only

chance at staying alive.

“Let"s see how useful you are after a couple of weeks down here.” He nodded at

the men holding Kael and they let him go, laughing as he crashed to the filthy

concrete floor. “He tried to steal from me. Teach him a lesson.” The last thing Kael

saw of Dudek was his feet retreating through the door as the men, Denbigh primary

among them, set upon him.

130

Fyn Alexander

Chapter Fourteen

The only time Angel had visited Mr. Conran"s gracious Victorian town house in

Holland Park was for the New Year"s party he"d attended with Daddy and Sharon a

few months ago. And then he had entered through the front door. He stood now in

the big rear garden beside the swings and seesaw, looking at the house. The lights

were all on upstairs, and the noise coming from a half-open window indicated that

the children were up there getting ready for bed. The only light downstairs came

from a tall, narrow window to the left of the French windows. From clandestinely

exploring the house at the party, Angel knew the window was in Conran"s study.

Standing on the patio, he pulled out a shiv and opened the French doors very

carefully. Once they were open, he checked the paintwork. Not a scratch.
Excellent
!

Daddy would be proud. Inside he closed the door with great care and locked it again

before walking out into the hall and along to the study. Without a sound, he opened

the door and stepped inside. At his desk across the room, Conran looked up,

obviously expecting his wife or children. When he saw Angel, he looked quickly

about him as if expecting God knew what to happen. Confusion was replaced with

panic and then confusion again.

“Mr. Conran, calm down, sir. It"s just me, Angel Button.”

“I know who you are.” He looked up at the ceiling as if he could check that his

wife was still up there unharmed. “The housekeeper left for the day. Who let you

in?”

“I came in through your French windows in the lounge.”

“Through the drawing room?” he said stupidly. “How? Why?”

“How?” Angel pulled out the shiv and held it up. “Don"t worry, I didn"t leave a

mark. Daddy taught me how, and he"s an expert.”

Conran spread his hands, exasperated. “What is he training you to be? Some

sort of modern-day Oliver Twist?”

“Not sure what that means, sir,” Angel said.

“Why didn"t you knock on the door? No, don"t tell me. Saunders never knocks

on doors.”

“I wasn"t sure if your wife should know I was here in case she asks why.”

“I"m asking. Why are you here?”

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

131

“Sir, where"s my daddy? He left nine days ago. He said he would only be gone

three days, maybe a little longer, and he said if he was delayed, he would contact

me to let me know he"s okay. I haven"t heard a word, and I"m really worried.”

“You could have knocked on the front door to ask that,” Conran pointed out.

Angel shrugged and walked toward the desk. “Sorry, Mr. Conran, but I know

you work for MI6 and so does Daddy. I thought I had to keep it secret.”

Conran smiled slightly. “And what do you think he does for MI6?”

Daddy had told him never to tell anyone what he knew, especially about the

death of his stepfather, so he adopted the most innocent smile he could muster. “I

think he"s like James Bond. Look how he rescued me in Bosnia last year.”

Conran smiled in response. “And where did you meet him?”

Mr. Conran was trying to see exactly how much he knew, and Angel easily

repeated the lie Daddy had told him to tell. “I met him on the beach outside the

house in Cape Cod the night Sven was killed. It"s a really good job he was there

because those guys who killed Sven might have killed me too. Daddy saved my life

that night.”

“And what was Saunders doing in Cape Cod that night?”

After a slight pause, he said, “He was on vacation.”

“And you just went home with him?”

“Yes. My mom left for France without me. My stepfather would have thrown

me out the next day if he hadn"t died.”

Footsteps on the stairs made Conran rise quickly and go out into the hall,

closing the door behind him. Angel listened. “Are the children in bed, dear? Are you

off out now?”

A few minutes later, Conran walked back in. “My wife has gone out to play

bridge. Come into the kitchen.” Angel followed him along the hall into the large

kitchen. A big table dominated the center of the room. It still bore the remains of

the children"s bedtime snack, and wax crayon drawings were scattered at one end.

“Have you had dinner?”

“Yes, sir. Daddy insists I have healthy meals, so I always make sure I eat

properly when he"s away. I"m not perfect when he"s home, but when he"s away it

would be wrong to disobey him, so I make extra effort.”

Conran nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it would. Would you like some apple pie?”

“Yes, please,” Angel said at once. He wandered around the kitchen looking at

the children"s drawings stuck to the fridge with alphabet magnets. A row of colorful

Wellington boots in little sizes were lined up by the back door. From being there

before, he knew the rest of the house was beautiful and perfect, but the kitchen was

plainly the family"s hub of activity.

“Here you are, Angel. Come and sit down.” Conran placed a big slice of apple

pie and a glass of milk on the table and gave Angel a fork and a napkin. Angel sat

down and began to eat while Conran sat across from him, watching.

132

Fyn Alexander

“I was wondering if you got in touch with him after he left and told him to do

something else and maybe there was no way for him to contact me. Could that be

what happened?” Angel asked.

“Where did he say he was going?”

“He never tells me where he goes,” Angel said truthfully. “You know where he

is, don"t you?”

“I know where he went, yes, but he may not be there now. Leave this with me.

I"ll see if I can locate him. Give me your mobile number.” Angel took a red wax

crayon and a piece of paper and wrote down the number. “You"re left-handed like

Saunders,” Conran remarked.

“Daddy says more gays than straights are left-handed,” Angel said. “He knows

everything; he"s so smart.”

“Yes, he always was,” Conran agreed. “He"s a brilliant man.”

“Daddy said you were a snotty little fuck at school.” Angel forked up a

mouthful of pie. “On second thought, I probably shouldn"t have said that.” He met

Conran"s eyes. “Sorry.”

The man did not seem to be offended. “He"s right. I was. I"m not nearly so

insecure now. But Saunders was a bit of a prick himself. I don"t suppose he told you

that.”

Angel laughed. “No, but I have no trouble believing it. Are you gay, Mr.

Conran?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I"m a married man. I always wanted to be married.”

“Then what is it with you and Daddy? I"m not jealous or anything because I

know he loves me best. And masters often have more than one slave. But I think

you love him.”

Conran blew out a long breath as if the whole subject was far too complicated

to explain. “I have certain needs, and he fulfills them perfectly. It"s harmless

enough. And you"re right. He loves you more than anything in world.”

“Mr. Conran, I"m really worried about him. I love him so much.”

“Is he good to you?” Conran looked intently at him as if he desperately wanted

to know.

“Yes, sir. Daddy is the best thing that ever happened to me. No one ever gave a

shit about me before him.”

“Is he strict at home?”

“Not like he is in the dungeon,” Angel said, and Conran"s cheeks grew slightly

pink. “He"s strict, but no one ever cared about me enough before to be strict. No one

made me go to school or do homework. No one made me brush and floss twice a day.

No one taught me how to fire a gun or defend myself if I got attacked.” He finished

his milk.

“I hear you"ve turned into a crack shot.”

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

133

“Yes, sir, and with my amazing night vision and my steady hand, I would

make such a good sniper.” Despite Daddy wanting to keep him out of SIS, Angel

wanted it so badly that it would do no harm to put in a few hints with Conran.

“Would you indeed?”

Angel nodded. “Mr. Conran, please find Daddy. I can"t live without him.” He

looked at his empty plate and stood up. “I"d better go. I keep thinking he"s going to

be home any minute. Or at least I keep hoping he will.”

“Let me call you a taxi,” Conran said. “I"d drive you, but there"s no one to stay

with the children.”

“No, it"s okay,” Angel said, but Conran had already picked up the phone.

They walked to the front door and waited. “Did Saunders leave you money for

food and so on?” Conran asked.

“Yes, sir. All the household bills are paid directly out of Daddy"s bank account,

and he set up an account for me. I get the same amount to spend every month, but if

I go into overdraft or bounce a check, I have to pay the fees myself so I"ll learn to be

responsible.”

“Very wise of him.”

Angel was surprised when Conran placed his hand gently on Angel"s shoulder.

“Everything will be all right. I swear that man is indestructible. We"ll find him.”

A car horn sounded outside. Conran opened the door and walked with Angel

down the steps to the street, where the taxi waited. “Go home and try to sleep. I"ll

phone you when I have news.” He handed money to the driver to pay Angel"s fare.

Suddenly overcome with worry and fear for Daddy and gratitude to this man

who he knew would help him, Angel wrapped his arms around Conran"s neck and

pulled him close. After a brief hesitation, Conran held him for a second or two

before releasing him. “Off you go now, Angel. Go directly home and try not to

worry.”

An hour later, Angel climbed into bed and turned out the lights. He pulled his

blankie from under his pillow and held it to his chest. Mr. Conran would help find

Daddy. He really cared about him even though they had had that falling out in the

park last year. He rolled over onto Daddy"s side of the bed. Then, unable to hold it

back any longer, he curled up on his side and began to cry quietly.
Daddy, please

come home.

* * *

now he’s taken to rescuing children. What the hell has got into him?